


A Lifetime in the Palm of Your Hand

by stjarna



Series: AoS Advent 2018 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS Advent, F/M, Fluff with Feels, canon-compliant MCD implied, prompt: surprise, season 6 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Written for the AoS Advent prompt "surprise." Season 6 spec.





	A Lifetime in the Palm of Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta and @lilsciencequeen for the pre-read.

He paused for a moment when he saw her, sitting on the last step of the staircase that led to the pebble stone beach. Gentle waves washed up against the shore, a soft breeze blowing from the lake to land. A family was walking a dog by the water, their daughter squealing in delight when the dog jumped into the water to fetch a ball.

And yet Jemma didn’t seem to notice any of it. Her eyes were fixed on something in front of her.

Fitz walked down the stairs, furrowing his brow slightly when he noticed she was staring at the palm of her hand.

“Hey,” he made himself known, quietly.

She looked up in surprise, a smile flashing across her face. “Hey.”

“Was looking for you.”

A quiet chuckle escaped her. “I’m sorry. I should have said where I was heading.” She looked towards the horizon, sighing deeply. “I just needed to get out of the compound for a bit. Catch some fresh air.”

Fitz sat down beside her, resting his arms on his knees. “Are you alright?”

The corners of her mouth ticked up and yet there was a sense of melancholy about her. “Yes,” she replied, sliding her hand up Fitz’s forearm until her fingers intertwined with his. She pulled his hand closer, turning it and gently forcing his fingers open. She stared at his palm, her mind seemingly somewhere else, as she traced the lines with her index finger.

“Do you remember my grandmother?” she suddenly asked, without looking up.

“The one who insisted that she couldn’t understand a word I was saying?” Fitz replied, unable to hide a grin.

Jemma laughed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You do know she was joking, right?”

“I assumed as much. Or hoped at least.”

Jemma’s snicker slowly subsided, her expression growing more somber again as her eyes once more wandered to Fitz’s palm in her hand. “She would read my lines when I was a child.”

Fitz scoffed in amusement. “Really?”

“Only the brightest future, of course,” Jemma continued, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Naturally, I was rather skeptical of the whole thing. Not really any science to support such nonsense. But—nonetheless—whenever she did it, I was fascinated by the thought that every person has different lines, different fingerprints. Something that makes us absolutely unique. Not even twins have the same prints.” She fell silent, her fingers tracing the lines on Fitz’s palm. “And yet, there was a time, when your prints, your lines existed twice. It should be impossible.” She looked up, her expression a mix of sadness and adoration that slowly morphed into something almost teasing. “Do you even realize how many rules of nature and physics you’ve broken?”

Fitz chuckled quietly. “A few.” He covered her hand with his, cradling it between his palms. “Do you miss him?”

A sad smile flashed across her face. “Yes and no. I don’t need to miss him, because he’s still here. You’re still here. But there are memories I made—both good ones and sad ones—and I miss that we don’t share them even though I made them with you.”

“I’ll make up for it. I promise,” Fitz vowed quietly, looking into her whiskey-brown irises.

Her lips pulled into a wide, beaming smile that Fitz couldn’t help but mirror, until her expression suddenly became serious again, a nervous energy surrounding her. She looked at their hands, before her gaze wandered back up to Fitz. “You know, you weren’t the reason I was thinking about my grandmother and fingerprints and lines.”

Fitz pursed his lips, raising his eyebrows. “No? What then?”

She exhaled a stuttering breath, swallowing hard. “I thought about how our child will have its unique set of prints, set of lines. How it’ll be unique. How it will have its own future.”

A soft smile played on Fitz’s lips as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You still want that?”

She didn’t reply, but her answer was written in her eyes, in the way the corners of her mouth twitched.

“You think I’ll be any good at it?” Fitz asked, trying to keep his tone light even though doubts gnawed on his insides.

She laughed quietly, bobbing her head. “Yes, I think you’ll be a wonderful father.”

His heart filled with warmth at her words, at the softness with which she spoke them. “Good to know,” he replied, barely above a whisper.

Once again, a shadow darkened her expression, wiping away her beaming smile, her eyes instead filled with anxiousness. “Fitz,” she breathed.

He furrowed his brow, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, massaging it gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t thinking about a hypothetical child.”

He stared at her in silence, letting her words sink in, before muttering an almost inaudible “What?”

She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

His mouth gaped ajar and he felt like the world around them had disappeared or started spinning so fast that everything became blurry.

“Say something, please,” Jemma requested, her tone laced with worry.

Fitz gazed into her eyes, letting her words replay in his head, allowing his mind to calculate and imagine the consequence of her surprise. He let out a quiet laugh before pulling Jemma closer, pressing his lips against hers. When he broke the kiss, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, smiling widely. “I hope it get your lines.”

Jemma laughed out loud, tears of joy in her eyes. “I think we established that that’s impossible.”

Fitz looked into her loving, golden irises, his palm still pressed against her cheek. “Your smile then,” he said quietly, before kissing her once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this fic for a long time, but the AoS Advent prompt fit so nicely that I finally decided to sit down and write it.


End file.
